


Only Connect

by julien (julie)



Category: due South
Genre: Episode: s02e18 Flashback, M/M, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1997-01-07
Updated: 1997-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:49:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21871750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/julien
Summary: Fraser has lost his memory, and doesn’t even recognise his own name. Which is horribly unsettling, but it allows him to consider his best friend – Ray Vecchio – with fresh eyes… and he becomes curious about the possibilities.
Relationships: Benton Fraser/Ray Vecchio
Kudos: 6





	Only Connect

**Author's Note:**

> **Notes:** This piece is set during and after the episode 218 FLASHBACK, and the title has been borrowed from E.M. Forster. 
> 
> **First published:** 7 January 1997 in my zine Pure Maple Syrup 4

# Only Connect 

♦

There was confusion, and a sense of being very much alone. The principal feeling, though, was one of almost complete disconnection. He was aware that this sense of freedom might well have felt desirable at other times – for now, he only wished that he could feel _grounded_ again. Yes, it seemed that his feet barely touched the sidewalk, despite the heavy and constricting laced-up boots.

Benton Fraser. Benton Fraser. He said the name to himself, time and again, hoping it would suddenly become familiar, or it would dislodge a truth or a memory. _How is it that my own name can be a stranger to me?_ Benton Fraser. The world surrounded him, but he was not a part of it.

There were some things he knew, some things he was certain of. For example, he knew that trust was of the utmost importance. This man who used to be Benton Fraser could not remember, however, whether he himself was trusting or trustworthy.

Ray assured him that he was, that he trusted people implicitly, which was heartening. It seemed that Fraser had some good points, to balance reports of the unreasonable heroism and the extensive pedantry.

And it was obvious that Ray was trustworthy: forever patient with and loyal to this man who used to be his friend. Everyone else in Benton Fraser’s world was curious, concerned, pleasant, busy. No one else tried to help him, not for any significant period. Not like Ray.

The names felt as if they were meaningless labels. Ray Vecchio. _How is it that my own best friend can be a stranger to me?_

♦

The woman – Inspector Meg Thatcher, aka the Dragon Lady – stared up at him, as if she could draw out his memories by the sheer force of her will. And he wasn’t unmoved by that, by no means was he unmoved. Perhaps she had stared imploringly up at him in the forgotten past, just so, with emotions warring behind her pretty face. Somehow he received the impression that if he couldn’t remember the particular incident she was referring to, the Inspector would be almost as relieved as she’d be disappointed.

Ray knew or suspected enough to have turned his back through all that. Though he must have overheard the words. The Inspector’s stilted and incomplete sentences, the truths left unspoken. Ray hadn’t talked to him like that – if the man who’d once been Fraser asked a question, Ray answered it, honestly and in full.

For now, the Inspector retreated in good order. ‘Carry on, gentlemen,’ she commanded. ‘Keep me apprised.’

He watched her stride out of Fraser’s office, and he murmured confidentially, ‘Ray, this woman. Er, are she and I…’ Having no idea what words Benton Fraser would use, and not wanting to be crude, he jiggled a shoulder, mumbled something suggestive.

Ray understood, and bluntly said, ‘She hates you.’

‘Oh. That’s too bad.’

‘Yeah,’ Ray agreed, though he seemed so thoroughly unconcerned by any possible or impossible relationship between Fraser and Thatcher. Perhaps the Inspector’s discomfort arose from a misunderstanding with the Constable, or from some other difficulty entirely.

There was, he thought, another option. One standing right here beside him. The man who wasn’t Benton Fraser turned to Ray Vecchio, wrapped a tentative hand around Ray’s upper arm, let his fingers briefly massage the man’s triceps, and then let his hand run down the length of Ray’s arm to offer a squeeze to his hand.

Ray gaped, and took a step back, breaking the contact between them. ‘What was that?’

‘Ah. I wondered if… if maybe you and I…’

‘No!’ Ray seemed quite put out by the notion, but not horrified or disgusted.

He decided to persist, for the sake of clarity. ‘Do you say that because… I am not the man you want me to be? I only wear his face?’

‘No.’ Ray scowled at him, and then tried to explain in a more reasonable tone, ‘No, it’s because we’re friends, OK? We’re just friends, and that’s plenty.’ Ray was waving a hand around now, dismissing extraneous ideas. ‘It’s not like that between us.’

‘Ah.’ That was really too bad, as well.

He noticed once more that Ray Vecchio was a rather attractive man, even now with his mobile face all scrunched up, betraying the full range of his emotions. Maybe _especially_ now. On the other hand, women seemed to respond to Benton Fraser, and Ray had told him that happened all the time. Fraser wasn’t quite sure why. He’d stood before a mirror searching for familiarity, though it was a damned jarring experience. ( _How is it that my own face can be a stranger to me?_ ) The man who’d been Fraser had seen nothing more than regular features, and a distant expression that conveyed loss and confusion.

Ray was muttering, ‘God, you still do that thing with the _Ah.’_

‘What thing, Ray?’

The man was about to brush him off, but thought better of it. ‘Like, you pack twenty volumes of significance into one little syllable. And I never know what you mean.’

‘Ah,’ he said flatly.

‘I know why you do it, though,’ Ray offered with some disgruntlement. ‘You let the other person fill in the blank. They fill it in from their conscience.’ He sighed. ‘You expect a lot from people. And you almost always get it.’

The man who was apparently Fraser considered this. ‘I must be a very difficult person to live with.’

Ray looked at him archly, loftily, as if he had passed many trials and met many demands. ‘There are benefits,’ he announced, calling an end to the conversation by leading Fraser out of the tiny office.

♦

‘Are you sure?’ he asked as Ray drove them through unfamiliar city streets, in the strange green car Ray expressed such fondness for. ‘The Inspector and I never…?’

‘Absolutely sure,’ Ray replied. ‘But you just gave me a great idea.’

While Fraser had ostensibly been asking about Inspector Thatcher and Constable Fraser, he was really more interested in his own relationship with Ray – the man called him _Benny_ , for God’s sake. But, despite the continuing topic of conversation, there was still nothing in Ray’s manner to indicate that the man was anything more or less than Fraser’s friend.

And Ray was indeed his friend. Which was why Ray’s story about Victoria Metcalfe meant very little to Fraser, until they got to the part where Ray Vecchio had shot Benton Fraser in the back. ‘You _shot_ me?’ he exclaimed.

Oddly enough, Ray was lost for words for a moment – and then he almost laughed. ‘Well, I didn’t _mean_ to.’

‘Are you definitely sure that we’re friends?’

‘Yes, we’re friends,’ Ray replied firmly. ‘I’ve done more for you than anybody.’

Fraser smiled. He’d really just wanted to hear it. Later, he pushed a little more.

‘You know, guys aren’t any good at talking about this stuff,’ Ray tried to fob him off with. But finally he declared, ‘It’s just one of those special cases where alone we’re incomplete, but together we’re better than we are separately.’

‘Ah,’ said Fraser, ‘synergy.’

Ray scowled at him again, good-naturedly challenging him. ‘If you lost your memory, how come you still know all the big words?’ Raising his brow, Ray added, ‘Mr. Encyclopedia.’

Apparently he was expected to react to that. The man who wasn’t Fraser just smiled some more, assuming he was being fondly teased. He and Ray were friends. Though Fraser couldn’t help asking, ‘Don’t you mean Mr. Dictionary?’

‘You remember?!’ Ray, bless him, was delighted.

But Fraser soon made the happy face fall again. ‘No, I was simply suggesting that… Ah,’ he belatedly added, ‘was that an old joke between us?’

Ray just glanced at him glumly.

♦

A number plate brought everything back into focus. Constable Benton Fraser looked about him, and the whole world was exactly the same but profoundly different. He knew who he was, and where he was, and yet his perception of everything was still strangely distant.

He was Benton Fraser again, and he feared that the disconnection was his life. Perhaps it was so intrinsic to his situation that he hadn’t noticed it before. Fraser had to admit he didn’t like it all that much.

There was Ray, though. There had always been Ray. Perhaps there always would be Ray, no matter what. Ray Vecchio.

♦

‘You never once lied to me while I was amnesic, Ray, and I greatly appreciate it. I mean, there were a few things you were unaware of, but you never consciously misled me, even while we were discussing painful matters.’ Fraser lifted his hand in a throwaway gesture. ‘Well, actually, you did lie once – you indicated that Lieutenant Welsh was supportive of what you were doing. I would like to thank you for risking his displeasure.’

Ray laughed under his breath. ‘See, Benny, if you really had your memory back, you’d know that’s the spice of my life.’

‘Not variety…?’ The attempt at repartee fell flat.

Fraser had continued the process of visiting the familiar places, with Ray at his side, despite the fact he had his full memory back now. Perhaps he was simply making sure they actually existed, and weren’t figments of his imagination. Well, that was how he briefly explained it to Ray.

The truth was, Fraser was trying to find some way of losing his sense of dislocation.

Right now they were sitting in a booth in the front window of Joan’s Place, just down the road from his apartment, drinking mugs of strong coffee. He and Ray had done this a hundred times over the past two years, unwinding together after a difficult day, and yet Fraser did not feel he was a part of it anymore. Why did he still feel as if he was a stranger?

‘Ray,’ Fraser began.

‘What?’

‘Do you really think of me as a hero?’

Ray just looked at him a little sardonically. At last the man said, ‘Yeah, everyone does.’

‘Oh.’

A roll of those lovely expressive hazel-green eyes. ‘ _Oh_ , what?’

‘Well…’ Fraser took a moment to think twice, and then decided to proceed anyway. ‘People run a risk when dealing with hero figures, Ray. If they put someone on a pedestal, they create a distance between them. A distance that can feel unbridgeable, to everyone involved.’

Ray was considering him, and Fraser examined his coffee mug, which was almost empty. Oh-so-lightly, Ray asked, ‘Lonely up there, Benny?’

Fraser’s gaze flew directly to Ray’s. ‘Yes.’

‘Hell, I told you _I_ don’t know how to talk about this stuff,’ Ray was grumbling, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. ‘What do you expect, anyway? You put on the Super Mountie costume, you romp around Chicago rescuing widows and orphans, you _grande jeté_ from rooftops, you jump onto moving vehicles… People forget you’re human under all that.’

‘Do you, Ray?’

‘Forget you’re human? I used to. Sometimes. Not so much anymore.’

Fraser studied his mug again. ‘You said I looked good in it. The red serge.’

Ray groaned theatrically. ‘Ah, you remember the _flattery_ just fine…’ He fixed Fraser with a shrewd stare. ‘You like it up there on that pedestal, Benton Fraser. You like being The Mountie.’

A moment stretched before Fraser could look up at his friend again. Eventually, very simply, he asked, ‘If you’ve finished your coffee, Ray, would you please come home with me?’

♦

The ideal solution had occurred to Fraser. He had been thinking about the act itself for some while – though he had tried to put such ideas behind him ever since he became Benton Fraser again, and the attractive and trustworthy man beside him resolved into Ray Vecchio. He had tried to ignore his own inclinations, with some measure of success. Though now he realized that it might, as they say, kill two birds with one stone.

Fraser silently confronted the solution while he and Ray walked back along the sidewalk towards Fraser’s apartment building. He would like very much to connect with Ray, to ground himself through Ray, to feel he was a part of the human race once more. To be completely frank about the matter, Fraser wanted Ray to fuck him.

He had no idea what Ray would think about this. Fraser had managed to persuade him into activities before, on any number of occasions, in a variety of situations. Not in relation to anything quite like this, however…

The two of them were alone in the spartan apartment: Diefenbaker wasn’t there. It seemed that the wolf was still in a snit over Fraser not recognizing him. The two humans were alone, and the door was firmly closed. Fraser turned to his friend, and offered exactly the same gesture he’d made in his office, back when he wasn’t (strictly speaking) himself. His left hand wrapped around Ray’s upper arm, his fingers massaging for a moment, before drawing a caress down Ray’s arm. This time, though, Fraser squeezed Ray’s hand and didn’t let it go.

‘I would like to ask you a favor, Ray. A personal favor.’

But Ray was looking warily down at their linked hands. ‘I was thinking about this. You know, it could have just been you reaching out. Or trying to figure who you were, and who you weren’t.’ A brief silence stretched. ‘Or it could have been you really feel that way. Maybe you’ve even felt that way all along.’

‘Perhaps it was a little of all those things,’ Fraser suggested. ‘I’m not entirely sure myself. Regardless of that, Ray, I was wondering if you’d do me the honor of allowing me to feel that way tonight.’

‘You want to, uh…’ His free hand wandered vaguely in the direction of the narrow bed.

‘Yes, Ray.’

‘With me?’

‘Yes, Ray.’

The man seemed lost for words. It didn’t happen often.

Fraser stepped closer, leaned in and kissed him. A moment of mouth waiting against mouth, and then Ray began cooperating. It was a strong kiss, despite a lingering hesitancy. Strong and masculine, loving and stirring. Earthy and divine. At last Fraser broke away with a gasp, sensation shimmering through all his nerve endings. He was sure Ray was feeling much the same way, for Ray’s breath was loud in the stillness of the apartment.

‘Benny…’

‘Yes, Ray?’ There was no verbal response. Ray’s need now painted itself in bold colors across his face. Fraser asked, ‘You’re not unfamiliar with this notion…?’

A grimace, though it didn’t mask the need. ‘I’ve thought about it some.’ The words were tugged reluctantly out of him. ‘Someone would make a comment about you. About us. Or you’d say something. That innocent way you have of saying the damnedest things. And I’d think about it. Never did anything, though. With you.’

‘With anyone else?’

‘No.’ Ray was staring at him, glancing down at Fraser’s mouth occasionally, his lips apparently still hungering. ‘And you?’

‘No one else.’

‘God…’ Ray looked away now. ‘I was kind of hoping one of us knew what he was doing.’

‘I know what I _want_ to do,’ Fraser said gravely. Their gazes met, and Fraser continued without blushing, ‘I want you to sodomize me, Ray.’

The man quaked. ‘ _Oh_ …’ he moaned, hand tightening unbearably around Fraser’s.

‘Would you be amenable to performing the act?’

‘Yeah.’ Ray’s tongue-tip ran nervously around his dry lips. ‘Uh, yeah, sure. But won’t it hurt…?’

‘I want it, Ray,’ he replied, endeavoring to convey his certainty through his expression, his body language, his tone.

It seemed he succeeded. This time Ray stepped closer, and reached up to cup Fraser’s face in both hands, before kissing him again. There was, quite literally, heat generated between them. Which added one more provocation to the urge to shed both his and Ray’s clothes.

Soon they were lying naked together on the bed, moving skin against skin, caught up in the headiness of kissing and holding. Forced to embrace hard and close, or else fall to the floor alone. Incredibly erotic, this man-to-man dance.

‘Benny…’

‘Ray.’

‘You really want me to do that?’ A breath or two. ‘Because this is fine, this is just fine, I don’t need anything more than this.’

‘I want it, Ray. For my own reasons.’

‘I’m not…’ Ray would have laughed if he had breath for it. ‘I’m in no state to argue with you.’

‘Good.’ Fraser looked into those beautiful eyes, pupils dark and enlarged, irises bright. ‘Connect with me, Ray. Fuck me. Now.’

‘Oh…’ The eyelids drooped, and then Ray pulled away for a moment, fumbling for his trousers on the floor beside the bed. ‘We’ll need something.’ His wallet was produced, and then a condom was slipped out of the coin pocket. ‘All right?’

_All right that you want to protect me?_ ‘Yes, Ray.’ _All right that you respect me, that you respect yourself that much?_ ‘Oh, yes…’

Ray scrambled back onto his knees, cast a heavy stare down Fraser’s body. ‘Turn over,’ he said.

‘We can’t…?’ Fraser gestured between them. _We can’t do this face-to-face?_

‘Not this time,’ Ray said firmly.

So Fraser obeyed him. Lying there, propped up on his bent knees, face and shoulders pressed into the pillow, letting himself be slowly possessed. It was uncomfortable, it was odd, it was better in the abstract than in actuality. It was divine.

Ray’s hips at last settled against Fraser’s buttocks, Ray’s testicles brushing against the tender skin of Fraser’s thighs whenever he shifted even slightly. ‘All right?’ Ray asked again, voice tight.

‘Yes.’

The smell of rubber was sharp, but couldn’t disguise Ray’s masculine scents. The sheets were somehow still cool against Fraser’s overheated skin. The bulk of Ray filled him, grounded him. Ray began moving.

At first the thrusts were a careful easing in and out – but abruptly Fraser _wanted_ this. And just as Ray had almost withdrawn once more, Fraser drove himself back onto the man with a cry. A wildness broke through them both, and the coupling began in earnest. Abandon and madness for a while.

But, ‘No!’ Ray soon called out. He grabbed at Fraser’s hips, tried to steady them both. ‘Ah, no, Benny, I won’t last two seconds more at that rate…’

Fraser couldn’t help but moan a little in disappointment. Unfair of him, he knew, to want this to go on forever, to expect Ray to have superhuman control.

Ray pushed at him, Ray was leaning forward to embrace him, and they both carefully shifted down to lie together on the bed, still blessedly joined. That was rather pleasant – Fraser’s length pressed against the sheets, Ray lying along him, scattering damp kisses across his shoulders, still filling him. ‘Ah, Benny,’ the man groaned, and he was moving again.

The thrusts were barely more than rocking motions now, but Fraser actually decided that this was better. Ray was so deep within him now, so wholly possessed of him, their bodies as close as two become one. Divine, better than divine. Complete. Connected.

Ray’s right hand found its way down past Fraser’s waist and underneath him, wrapped firmly around his penis. Fraser shuddered, which almost undid the man within him. ‘Soon, Benny. Very soon… Come with me, all right?’

‘Yes,’ he whispered, and Fraser began echoing Ray’s little rocking motions as best he could with Ray’s weight on him. Thrusting into Ray’s hand, as Ray thrust into Fraser. ‘Oh please…’ Fraser said. ‘Please, Ray…’ And orgasm spun through him, and then through Ray.

Quaking and crying out, and quite overcome by the pleasure of it. And then slowly spiraling down, wondering whether anyone in the greater Chicago area could possibly have remained unaware of anything that cataclysmic.

Eventually they shifted enough so that they could lie in each other’s arms. After the dizzy lightness of the shared orgasm, Fraser felt heavy with satiation. Heavy, as if he was half sunk back into the earth with the weight of passion asked and answered. And Ray was there with him, deep in a mutual embrace.

A while later, Fraser decided that he could speak. ‘Ray.’

‘Yeah, Benny.’

‘I want you to join me. Join with me.’

A sigh escaped Ray’s lips. ‘I don’t belong up on any pedestals, Benny.’

‘Oh, Ray,’ Fraser chided. ‘Of course you do.’

Ray shook his head in the negative. ‘Like you said, there’s good and there’s bad about pedestals.’

Fraser let their gazes connect. The bond was already there, in a very real way. Fraser smiled. ‘Then forget about pedestals, and just _be_ with me.’

‘That’s what you want? You and me?’

‘Oh, yes.’

‘Synergy, right?’

‘Right,’ agreed Fraser, before kissing the man. The connection had grounded, and now blossomed into something more. Something wonderful. Others might not welcome it, but this connection was a solid part of the world. It, he, _they_ were a part of the world.

♦


End file.
